


All You Ever Think About Is Sex

by TheGangHitsTheSlopes



Series: Romantic Rights Are All That We Got [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Stripper AU provided by ConesOfDunshire, maybe more plot later we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 14:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6858721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGangHitsTheSlopes/pseuds/TheGangHitsTheSlopes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens after Futakuchi and Terushima ditch their dates at the bar...</p>
            </blockquote>





	All You Ever Think About Is Sex

Terushima waited in the alleyway next to the bar for what felt like an eternity and his hard-on ached so badly he considered pulling out his dick and taking care of himself right then. But there was some pleasure to be derived from waiting it out. Terushima had been waiting for this moment for two years now, what was a few more minutes. 

But Futakuchi said he’d be out soon, right? How long did it take to ditch Iwaizumi and Oikawa, those two were practically in love with each other, it shouldn't take this long. It was starting to get cold… maybe he should text Futakuchi to bring his jacket out with him.

Soon enough Futakuchi flew around the corner, already undoing his belt. Before Terushima had a chance to mock him, Futakuchi slammed him against the wall and smashed their mouths together, his tongue already probing past Terushima’s lips. 

His breath was hot and fast, full of pent up desperation and Terushima’s own enthusiasm surpassed him tenfold. Terushima ripped open Futakuchi’s shirt before reaching around to grip his firm ass. He pulled him in closer, close enough to feel that Futakuchi was just as hard as he was. Futakuchi pulled away from him, his eyes hungry with lust.

Terushima glanced at the belt in his hands. “Someone’s eager, huh princess?” 

Futakuchi didn’t respond. Instead he wedged one of his legs between Terushima’s and nudged them apart, rubbing his thigh against Terushima’s throbbing erection. Terushima moaned and slid his hands around to undo Futakuchi’s pants further but a strong hand grabbed ahold of his wrist and yanked it above his head. Terushima cocked an eyebrow and raised his other hand to Futakuchi’s face. That one too was forced above his head while Futakuchi maintained heated eye contact.

Futakuchi took the belt and quickly wrapped it around Terushima’s wrists, tying it tight enough so he couldn’t pull them apart. Terushima’s eyes widened excitedly, his cock twitching eagerly in his pants. 

Raising his belted hands higher, Futakuchi leaned in and growled dangerously low in Terushima’s ear. “I thought I warned you about calling me ‘princess.’”

Before Terushima could respond, Futakuchi rolled his leg against his bulge again. Terushima’s head fell back as he let out another moan and Futakuchi moved in on his neck, leaving bite marks from below his ear down to his collarbone. 

Slowly Futakuchi trailed the hand not pinning Terushima’s against the wall down his chiseled chest, tracing the outline of his hardened nipples with a feather light touch. Terushima bit his lip, his breath was turning into light pants. Futakuchi nudged Terushima’s legs farther apart and dipped his hand beneath the waistband of Terushima’s jeans. He gripped onto the tightened ass, massaging it with his strong fingers. Terushima shook beneath him as Futakuchi inched those fingers closer and closer to his entrance. He jerked his arms down on instinct, but Futakuchi held his hands firmly in place. 

“Come on, princess,” Terushima whined. “You’re killing me.”

Futakuchi glared at him with half-lidded eyes and abruptly pulled his hand out of Terushima’s jeans. Terushima was about to whine again when the grip on his hands disappeared as well. Futakuchi reached down and undid Terushima’s pants quickly, sliding them down off of his hips. Without breaking eye contact, he popped two fingers into his mouth, sucking on them and coating them in saliva. Terushima rocked his hips in anticipation.

Once sufficiently coated, Futakuchi stuck his hand beneath Terushima’s boxers and abruptly shoved a finger past his entrance. Terushima gasped, his belted hands struggled, aching to grip onto something. Futakuchi’s mouth was back on his as he probed Terushima’s inner walls, curling and pressing his finger against their tight resistance. Terushima bent his arms awkwardly enough to get a fist full of Futakuchi’s hair, forcing a hiss past Futakuchi’s lips. 

Now a second finger pushed inside him and Terushima groaned at the new fullness. Futakuchi stretched and scissored his fingers inside Terushima, groping around for that perfect spot…

“Ah! Ah! Fuck, princess, ah, Kenji!” Terushima trembled, his legs buckling beneath him. 

Futakuchi smirked and continued his merciless attack on Terushima’s prostate, honestly a little turned on from hearing Terushima whimper his name. “Does that feel good, Teru?” He took an earlobe between his teeth and tugged. “Do you like that?”

Terushima squirmed more, writhing in pleasure. “No! No!”

Futakuchi snorted a laugh, leaning back to look at Terushima, who was clearly lying. “No? You don’t feel good?”

“No!” Terushima opened his eyes, his pupils dilated wide. “I don’t like it.” He whined. Something about the brattiness in his tone made Futakuchi’s cock twitch.

“You don’t?” Futakuchi flexed his fingers again, relishing in the convulsion that seized through Terushima’s body. “Why not? It seems like you do.”

“I don’t—ah—I don’t want to come from your fingers,” He locked eyes with Futakuchi, his chest heaving. “I want your cock inside me, Kenji.” 

Futakuchi felt his own body shudder. “The fucking things you say.” He gritted his teeth as Terushima flexed around his fingers, imagining that feeling around his cock. “I can’t though, I don’t have anything.”

“I—I do,” Terushima panted. “In my pocket.” 

Futakuchi raised his brow. “In your jeans pocket?”

“Yeah,” Terushima started to regain slight coherency now that Futakuchi had stilled inside him. “You never know what’s gonna happen, right?” 

He winked and Futakuchi fought a smile, opting instead to roll his eyes. “You're a goddamn mess, you know that?”

“Yes, now please wreck me before someone from the staff comes back here to take out the trash or something.” 

Futakuchi scoffed, but reached into Terushima’s back pocket anyway, easing his fingers out of him slowly. “I thought you’d be into exhibitionism stuff, honestly.”

“No,” Terushima’s voice was stern, his usual boldness returning. “Only you get to see me come tonight.” 

That did it. Futakuchi let go of Terushima completely and hurriedly pulled the condom and lube packet out of his jeans. He slid the condom onto his cock as quickly as he could. He fumbled slightly with the lube, cursing as he accidentally squeezed most of it out onto the ground trying to rip the packet open. He slathered the rest of it on his length and looked back up at Terushima, who was watching Futakuchi’s actions with hungry eyes. 

“Are you ready?”

“God, yes, I am!” Terushima bounced on his heels in impatience, “Kenji, I’m dying, let’s go!” 

Futakuchi leaned in, ducking under Terushima’s arms, and kissed him full on the mouth, teeth tugging at his bottom lip. He yanked on Terushima’s boxers and pushed them down to his knees. Terushima kicked them off the rest of the way, freeing one leg and wrapping it around Futakuchi’s. Futakuchi pulled back to position himself at Terushima’s entrance, easing just the tip through the tight resistance. 

Terushima whimpered, his arms fidgeting on Futakuchi’s shoulders. “Kenji, please, please, I need it, I need you so bad.” 

Futakuchi inhaled sharply, desperate to bury himself inside Terushima, but he wanted to drag out his suffering a little longer. He wanted him to beg. “Tell me exactly what you need or else I won’t deliver.”

And Terushima wasn’t above begging. “I need your cock inside me, I need it deep, breaking me. Kenji, I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t sit for a week. I need your fat cock to split me open and fill me up with your cum. I need it, Kenji, I need it now. I need both of us to cum so hard we go blind—“

Futakuchi shut him up by slamming himself to the hilt inside Terushima. He yelped and both men froze, locked in each other’s arms. Futakuchi could only breathe through shallow pants, suffocated by the grip on his length and the fear that he’d gone too far, hurting Terushima. 

It was only seconds of stillness, but it felt like forever. Terushima leaned his head back against the wall, and exhaled, letting out a long, drown out cry with it. “Kenji, oh my god.”

“Is that what you wanted?”

“Yes, god, yes,” Terushima whined, more impatient than before. “Please fuck me, please!” 

And Futakuchi couldn’t ignore such a humble request. He dragged his cock out to the tip and snapped his hips back into Terushima, wincing at the delicious way Terushima flexed around him. It was even better than he’d imagined. He started to build up a steady rhythm, each time almost fully pulling out before thrusting back in. Terushima rolled his hips to match him, grinding his cock against Futakuchi’s sculpted abs, leaving a trail of precum behind. 

Futakuchi rested his head on Terushima’s shoulder, grimacing as he tried to maintain his composure. He quickened his pace, forcing all of his focus on to the reactions of the man beneath him. 

“Does that feel good, babe?” he asked in a mock innocent voice. “Is my cock making you feel so good?”

Terushima moaned, high-pitched and breathy. “Yes, fuck, I love it, I love your cock!” 

Futakuchi felt Terushima tighten around him again, eliciting another hiss. “Are you a little slut? Is that what you are? Are you a fucking little cockslut?”

“Yes!” Terushima nudged Futakuchi’s head with his shoulder, forcing him to make eye contact. “I’m a cockslut, I’m a cockslut for you, Kenji!”

Terushima was covered in sweat. His brows were pulled together and his lips pouted out with the deep gasping breaths flowing through them. Even his face seemed to be whining and, fuck, he was too hot to look at. Futakuchi wasn’t going to last long. 

He swiveled his hips and felt the tip of his cock brush against the small gland that made Terushima crumple over on top of himself. The rings of muscle tightening around his cock left him in equally as flustered of a state, and the two of them clung to each other in a sweaty, gasping mess. 

“Kenji, Kenji, fuck! I’m—I’m gonna come!”

Futakuchi sucked in a deep breath, locking eyes on Terushima, feeling his own release rapidly approaching. “Say it. You know what to say, just—ah—just say it.”

It took a second for Terushima to register what Futakuchi meant, but the increasingly erratic thrusts jogged his memory. “Fuck! Princess, fuck me! Princess, fuck me with your cock until I come!” 

Futakuchi’s hips started to stutter uncontrollably. He buried his face into Terushima’s neck and he felt himself get lost in the overwhelming wave of pleasure. Terushima clenched around him, pulling his face in deeper as he came hard, crying out Futakuchi’s name. 

Futakuchi came shortly after with a strangled grunt. His hips slowed to a stop as Terushima loosened the vice-like grip of his still bound arms. Both of their breaths steadied slowly still shallow from the aftershocks of their orgasms. Futakuchi noticed something sticky on his face. He reached up to inspect it on instinct and nearly screamed at his discovery. 

“You fuck! You came on my face!?” 

Terushima looked up at him, his face screwed up in confusion. But sure enough, Futakuchi’s jaw was streaked with ropes of cum that trailed down his neck, a few dots decorating the collar of his shirt. 

Terushima couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Whoops, my bad, princess.”

“Don’t you dare fucking say that to me right now—“ Terushima interrupted him with a swipe of his tongue, scooping up the cum on Futakuchi’s chin. 

He swallowed and licked his lips, flashing a cocky smirk up at Futakuchi. “I’ll make sure I get you nice and clean, princess. Don’t worry.” 

Futakuchi pulled out of him, as gently and swiftly as possible. He stepped out from under Terushima’s arms and turned away, fighting the blood rushing back to his groin. He zipped up his pants and wiped the remaining cum off with the inside of his shirt. “I don’t need you to help clean me up, thanks.”

He fastened the buttons still attached to his shirt and fixed himself up enough for the walk of shame back to the train station. Terushima was uncharacteristically quiet, and right before Futakuchi was about to leave the alley he called out to him. “Hey, uh, Kenji?”

“What?” He turned around, annoyed, and saw Terushima standing against the wall naked from the waist down, his hands still tied together.

“Could you unbuckle me so I can get all back together? I don’t care if people see me like this, but I think the cops would.”

Futakuchi choked back another laugh and strode over to him, undoing the belt slowly. “You’re such a hassle. This is such an inconvenience for me. You definitely owe me one now.” He looked down at the man beneath him, his gaze dark with sinful intentions.

Terushima’s eyes flashed, his cocky grin spreading across his face. “Oh, I can’t wait, princess.”


End file.
